My dad calls me "honey"

and today I made fun of him for it. He got defensive, but I don't mind it at all, really.

All this talk about graduation and futures almost makes me wish I'd done something with my life. Today I was watching this TV show about movies and TV from the '80s (which failed to illicit any nostalgia from me; I didn't watch too much TV in the '80s; I was too busy doing things like being born and going to bed at 9 o'clock because I was 7 years old). About the time my mom was coming home from work, the show mentioned "Indiana Jones", describing him as a "suave archaeologist". I commented aloud, "I want to be a suave archeologist."

To which mom replied, "You're already suave, now you need to go to school and become n archaeologist?"

What a great and not-so-subtle segway into the "what are you going to do with your life" discussion. I'm not suave, I'm the opposite of that. And I don't particularly want to be an archaeologist anyway. Earlier I had said I wanted to be a "teen heart-throb" but that's not happening either. If I really wanted to be an archaeologist I'd just go out and do it. The truth is I don't really want to "be" anything. Doesn't that imply that I'm not anything now? Why o why won't someone pay me just for being totally sweet? Cause I can do that.

Pixx0rz

Biiiiicycle! Biiiiicycle!


i think its holding up the sky what do you think?


we are trespassing


someday this bridge will be broken up too

Seen today at two area pet stores

A cage full of a colony of mice that looked like they were laquatious' relatives.

A little black crawdad(crawfish, crayfish) that had escaped from a ceramic castle and walked halfway across the store before being discovered by another patron.

A pool full of small Japanese koi that swarm around on top of each other to nibble at you when you stick your finger in the water. 3 for $25 but I might come back later and get some.

A little dog that barked and whined at everyone at the store from its cage. When I came over to say hello I noticed it was all wet, which made me feel really sorry for it.

A siamese kitten that was very friendly and handsome, but cost $230.

Less exotic kittens which looked rather frightened and unhappy. One of them hissed at me.

A cage full of parakeets who sat and chirped quietly to themselves until you moved, when they suddenly got quiet.

Ferret Daily Spritz
Baby Fresh Scent
"Keeps your ferret smelling clean and fresh"

gather around everyone, It's a post about pottery.

Today I took some wet, lumpy clay out of the bucket I have in my back yard and worked it into a nice, useable plastic consistency. Kneading the clay like dough on a piece of plywood took me back to the old high school art class days. Half creative outlet, half downtime and break from "real classes", I always had at least one art class in my schedule. It's so sad how school districts cut art so quickly when faced with budget problems. I can't think of a better solution that keeps from hurting anyone, but I think art and music education is as important as English, if not more so.

I took a handful of my new clay and made a quick pinch pot*, eventually building it up into a little vase. I set it down, admired my almost-symmetrical handiwork, then smashed it (quickly, before I could fully resist the impulse) and put the clay back in with the rest. I think I'll wait a while before I actually start building anything. Clay is better when has had some time to age. This stuff from a hole in the ground still has a lot of rocks, soil and plant matter in it too, so I ought to refine it more.

Think of all I could create with God's gifts of the earth and my own two hands. As soon as I find a way to build a kiln in which to fire the clay, I can begin my new career as a potter.

*Pinch pots are easy. Roll some clay into a ball, hold it between your hands and push your thumb into the center of the ball. Rotate the ball as you pinch the wall of the pot between thumb and fingers. The clay will start to take on a bowl shape. Put both thumbs inside the bowl as soon as you have room to do so. Focus on getting the walls a consistent thickness, and keeping the bowl symmetrical. To make the pot bigger after the walls are thin enough, you can simply pinch bits of new clay onto the bowl's rim. You can make a vessel of any size and shape this way; just make sure to let the bottom of the pot dry a bit, so that it will support the weight without collapsing.

Did anyone find this helpful? I can go over slab and coil costruction too if there's a demand. I never did get the hang of throwing on a potter's wheel, though. There are all sorts of techniques with this medium: extrusion, molds, casting with slip, carving, and just about anything you can imagine doing with a bunch of mud.

Hiss (Sometimes it's hard to think up a title)

I must be pretty bored to make a blog post just in order to link to some random picture featuring a cat and a lizard. However, you must admit it's a pretty cool picture. Though outmassed many times by his assailant, this brave creature manages to hiss and posture his(or maybe her i don't know let's not be saxist) way out of danger, only losing a bit of its tail. (this paragraph is a link. you must click on it.)

For Posterity

Friday, April 1:
I don't remember how it started or whose idea it was. We had a campfire, we had a 24 pack of hotdogs, We had two determined contestants who claimed they had eaten dinner and were full. This is just one of those scenarios that springs fully formed into the mind of a young person with nothing better to do: Katie and Nick would have an eating contest.

Matt and Cromer started roasting dogs, four at a time. Katie started off fast, downing her first four well before Nick. There was no time limit, so he was free to take the slow and steady approach. Besides, Katie could never sustain such a pace for long, could she? It was decided that eleven dogs was the goal, 2 having already been eaten by noncontestants. The last dog was also to be eaten with a bun. Just because.

The weiners disappeared. A draw. All the available food was divided into half and bravely devoured. The party brainstormed, searching for a way to break the tie. A speed eating contest. Laps around the lake, a race across the lake. Punches to the stomach until, well, the inevitable. Edible reinforcements were called in, then cancelled. Concerned, we started to suggest to our dear friends that there was no dishonor in quitting, a draw being a most sensible decision in the circumstances. The two were in pain, but it soon came apparant that neither would admit defeat, nor would Katie accept a draw. The winner this night would be decided by knockout.

We put out the fire and moved the contest to an establishment loved, and yet feared by binge eaters everywhere.

TACO BELL.

Our tally so far?
11 hot dogs (last one with bun), 3 graham crackers, 4 marshmallows, 1 Sunny D, 7 saltine crackers, 1 can of Coke, 1 cookie. Each.

The Taco Bell trip was fueled by threats of massive burritos, but by our arrival it was apparant that the end was already in sight, so two soft tacos and two cups of water were ordered. Katie drained her water before Nick, as they set about joylessly eating. Katie VERY nearly lost it halfway through, but pulled it together. They finished. It was midnight, Taco Bell was closing, and we had to vacate.

We needed to end this. The endgame would be glasses of milk at ten paces (actually, no more than two paces from a large trash can). Again, Katie came out strong and emptied her glass while Nick was still contemplating his. They clinked glass number two together in a silent toast (to what? to stupidity, to stubbornness, to each other?) and drank. After it was finished, Nick told us that that was it; he wouldn't be able to take any more. Then, just to make it official, Nick's face got pale, his eyes wide, and out it all came. He puked. The man did a good job of hitting the trash can, I'll give him that. Relief.

One final gulp of milk, and Katie was the unquestionable victor. After celebrating, she then proceeded to the bathroom to rid herself of all she had worked so hard to consume. A bit of an anticlimax, I guess, but, she assured us, that was better than going to bed with a swollen, painful stomach.

I swear, Katie is so freaking hardcore, sometimes I just can't believe it. This girl rocks, and she did it all with a smile on her face. I have to hand it to Nick, as well. He went the distance, but in the end Katie's sheer tenacity and will won out.

Elapsed time: about two hours.
The final tally:
11 hot dogs (last one with bun), 3 graham crackers, 4 marshmallows, 1 Sunny D, 7 saltine crackers, 1 can of Coke, 1 cookie, 1 glass of water, 1 soft taco, 2 glasses of milk. Each.

Yeah, it was an incredibly stupid thing to do, but I almost wish I had done it. Could I have kept pace, kept it all down and won? There will be other nights, and other incredibly stupid things to do.

Posting, Settings, Template, View Blog / Create, Edit posts, Status.

I wrote a kickin' rad blogpost about some cool stuff that happended on friday, but it is at my home on my compy, so you don't get to read it. It is so exciting and informative, I cannot wait for the day I put it up here.

Today I played in the mud on the pretense of doing actual constructive work in the backyard. I can now whole-heartedly recommend going outside, making some slippy clay, and covering your entire arms, shoulders and (optional) shins with it Also you should be sure to get some on your face. Then go wash it off and leave a big mess in the bathtub. Then go to the library and blogpost about it. Only then can one know what it is like to be me.